Through boughs and leaves and stone on ground.I feel a presence of evil, a silent sound.An evil place once lovely and fair.ItÃ¯s gardens are grey, sad voices of despair.A village old, pillaged and raped.All itÃ¯s houses are rotten or burnt.Here are signs of battles of old.Raided for the virgins and their gold.From where cometh this evil air?The pressing warning of danger.